Griffins' Watch
by anesor
Summary: DA2 sequel, AMT AU after AMT2. Chapter 1: Warden-Constable Howe of the Vigil has been tasked with recruiting- without leaving his post or making more enemies during the mage war. Too bad the latest recruit is stubborn...


_The Dragon Age world, plot, and their characters aren't mine but belong to Bioware. Some characters may be my creations. I get no money for writing this sequel. _

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**Amaranthine Arling, Grey Warden post at the Vigil **

**Nathaniel Howe-**

The fresh spring gusts blew the scents of spring loam to even the top of the Coastwatch Tower. A single ship, wallowing and laden with cargo or refugees would reach Amaranthine before noon. A corvette was leaving port in a hurry. The best news was the lack of an invasion fleet: Imperial, Qunari, or Orlesian.

He wasn't quite as sure what his duty would be first to the Arlessa of the Vigil or First Warden.

Nathaniel nodded to the Silver Order lieutenant on watch and made one more scan of the horizon before descending back down into the Vigil itself. He was Warden-Constable, and commanded while Cousland was in Denerim.

Memories of his grandfather greeting that day from above were fresher and cleaner than his father's legacy. On rare days he still had a disjoint vision of his childhood home, now a military post than when his bloodline held it. Still he commanded respect and was confirmed as Cousland's heir, so he was redeeming his name for his father's sins slowly.

His father's throne room was now as much a workroom for the various concerns of Amaranthine, not Rendon's political ambitions. He didn't miss that part, though he was glad that his mother's portrait presided over the hall long after his father's had been burnt to ash and scattered.

Cera, the Circle mage, talked with Oghren quietly. Most likely the dwarf was seeking another potion for his latest hangover. Nathaniel was glad the mage wasn't involved in the uprisings across Thedas. Recently arrived merchants haggled with Lilith; she'd emerged as the leader among the merchants here, though younger than most of them. Seneschal Garevel spoke to agents of Bann Eddelbrek, who sought planting aid for the Feravel Plains. This was the usual when winter was truly over, and he found he missed the Vigil those years he was on missions in the Deep Roads or Denerim.

He didn't miss Landsmeet. The other nobles weren't sure if they should treat him as a Warden or son of a traitor. Tabris and Karward went to guard the Commander and MacTheirin. Tabris was a Denerim native so he would collect useful intelligence. The Wardens and Silver Order were on alert because of Kirkwall events but it was quiet in Ferelden. Cera came and went from Kinloch and was a valued merchant at the Vigil.

He could do with more quiet after the bronze giants of Kirkwall, but his duty was to hold the Vigil and watch for darkspawn threat.

A clank from the gate bell said that strangers approached the Vigil, and he hurried for the courtyard.

The merchant train was not a large one, only eight moderately-laden pack horses. Five guards were armed and looked experienced. The leader was a rangy-looking redhead, with a mabari puppy following at her heels.

Nathaniel saw that one horse carried someone bundled up and strapped in place, someone who looked ill. When he got closer, the caravan's entrance through the outer gate was explained. The sick man had the Blight sickness.

The woman asked, "Are you commanding?" At his nod, she almost came to attention. "We found him and an older man up a tree along the North Road last night, others already dead. He lost a lot of blood. The uncle died before morning. I didn't know where else to bring him."

He felt his frown. "Where?"

"Off the highway, a bit more than a half-day's journey away, where the Amston mill burnt down during the Blight." She looked at her group, with included a female Circle mage tending the victim and a male dwarf. "I think we finished them."

"Stay a moment." Nathaniel sent the page, the late Bann's youngest, to fetch Oghren. "You should be our guest until tomorrow, so we can check to make sure you aren't tainted. We will speak more later."

The caravan leader waved a hand to acknowledge him. After speaking to her people, she went to the forge.

Oghren arrived with his morning ale, just ahead of its fumes. He leered at the strangers and smacked his lips. "That mage looks a little scrawny for a human, but the long-faced redhead might enjoy a taste of Orzammar."

"That blade was expensive and well worn, like her armor." Nathaniel refused to encourage him.

"My weapon's well worn too. Armor hides their curves, but asking's the only way to find out." Oghren's gesture was crude.

Nathaniel turned to face him. "You will have to ask later. _They_ can't be sure they got all the spawn. Get some blood too, as there might be a Joining."

The wink was unsubtle. "I'm glad to do a Joining. I've a con-veen-ient bed when they get hungry."

Nathaniel was glad few were that curious with Felsi and the nuglet nearby. Few Wardens had that. "Leave soonest for the burnt mill."

Oghren nodded and strode off, bellowing for the Wardens he wanted to take with him. With all his social flaws, the dwarf was a solid Warden.

Nathaniel crossed to the victim, who still wore the remains of fine clothing. It wasn't damaged from combat, but from travel since then.

The merchant drifted back to where he looked at the sleeping man.

"Help me get him inside to the infirmary, I have more questions." Nathaniel spoke quickly as he began to unstrap the unconscious man. "What do you know about him?"

"He's a bit snobby for someone deep in nug-shit. He's not very pleasant. He's very good with that bow. Most of the dead were from arrows, not the others' blades."

That held some promise. Still Nathaniel needed to find out if he had potential and the will to survive. The final dram in the Joining cup was a limited resource for the ages.

The merchant helped sling the body onto the litter and they quickly moved through the keep to the infirmary. As they paused for the guard to let them through the door, his mother's training came to mind again. "I'm Nathaniel Howe, acting Commander of the Vigil. You are...?"

"Dryden, trader in dyes and spices and just starting out as trader, though my father trades mostly with Orzammar."

Nathaniel had heard that name before but forgot where from. It'd come to him.

Vanita came over to take a look at the nameless traveler. As soon as he was settled, their herbalist coaxed a potion into his patient. They'd have to wait a few minutes for the potion to take effect.

Mages who could heal were few enough, and Nathaniel wished the Wardens had one resident. That made him wonder. "That Circle mage, is she a scholar or can she heal as well?"

Dryden started but had a calculating look. "She can heal a little but she's not ambitious; she's a bigger admirer of Brother Genetivi than travel. She couldn't do anything for him once the injury was healed."

That made the taint the problem. "Anyone else injured, signs of taint?"

"I don't think so, but we can stay a few days here to trade." Dryden looked tired. "Is there a place we can set camp or stable our horses?"

There'd never been much demand for an inn with Amaranthine so close. Most visitors had business. "I'll have rooms assigned."

The patient groaned.

"Ser?" Nathaniel had to be patient. "Who are you? Can you tell us what happened?"

Still confused, the man looked back and forth between Nathaniel and Dryden. "Taldain, Dunren Taldain of the Markham Taldains. What happened to me?"

That nasal and demanding tone of voice said he wanted to call Nathaniel a peasant, but Dryden rolled her eyes.

Nathaniel'd been in Markham more than a few times before the Blight, but he hadn't meet anyone since. "Ser, your group was attacked by darkspawn."

Dunren's gaze sharpened into a full glare. "My uncle! He was traveling to consult with the great scholar in Denerim. He insisted in making a pilgrimage like Sister Margot on foot to Andraste's birthplace." He tried to sit up.

Gripping his shoulder, Dryden didn't allow that. "I told you several times, Ser. You are the only survivor of your group."

"Was that you? I thought I was hearing from those at the Maker's side. They sang that I was joining them." Dunren's smile wasn't quite relieved at the prospect.

The chance was slim, but he was still coherent and Cousland wanted recruiting any with promise. Nathaniel hoped he could crow that he didn't even have to leave the Vigil while she was away for months. She would accuse him of favoring another archer, and they'd all laugh.

Nathaniel would give him this option. "There is a chance, that you might still survive this attack if you become a Grey Warden. Your life _will_ change, and cannot return to what it was."

Dunren's face changed, looking desperate and guilty. "Sweet Andraste, I want to live."

Nathaniel turned to the merchant woman. "This is Grey Warden business now, and we take care of our own. Wait outside and I will send someone to get you settled."

The recruit might not survive until Oghren got back with the needed blood. Nathaniel verified Vanita knew what to do and then found a newer Warden to get the merchants settled.

Late that night, Oghren returned alone and reported on the incursion. They'd tracked the last tainted for an hour and put down the wolf. The rest of his squad would burning the bodies before they returned.

Shortly after midnight, Nathaniel conducted the Joining with all Wardens present as witnesses. Grey Wardens balanced on a knife-edge of sorrow and satisfaction when recruits lived through the rite. Few sought it. And as the lands of the south still saw more darkspawn, Fereldans didn't have the illusion that it was a glorious and easy duty.

Dunren was from the Marches and had little spawn away from around Kirkwall.

The next day, while their newest Warden was recovering and getting his assigned equipment, Verity reported on the merchant train. "I believe they are clean, Ser, but the dwarf has been gambling with Wardens..." She was devout and didn't approve of many entertainments.

Nor was Verity a Warden. Drinking, gambling, and whoring around were the usual ways of dealing with their duty. Nathaniel wasn't about to chastise the Wardens involved, let alone visitors. "I will speak to them, as warranted, later today."

Dunren had not risen by midday and he was checked to confirm that he still lived. Nathaniel was studying the messages that arrived from other posts when he heard a knock at the keep office door.

The knock told him it wasn't another Warden; they barged in.

The merchant Dryden entered, her helm under her arm. "Your herbalist thinks we're clear, so mind if we head out?"

"Did you see our merchants?" Nathaniel was struck by the lighter strands of her hair, but put it aside.

"Merchants and your seneschal. We should swing back though in a month or so with their orders."

By sunset the merchant train was gone, and Nathaniel was losing patience with their newest recruit. At dinner when the groggy Dunren finally appeared, he started drinking heavily. Without much food, he passed out too. It wouldn't last long, the taint saw to that, but Nathaniel felt a sneer when he looked at the mess, and that was one thing of his father's that had some use.

"Thinks he's somethin' special?" Oghren belched.

"Nothing unusual among nobility. You saw that in Orzammar, correct?" This would be tiresome until Dunren understood his new place.

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_A/N: Thanks to Sirinne True for the discussion that spawned this story. Thanks to my beta reader who has been kind enough to read this and point out stupid flubs. Any typos that remain are not intentional... Reviews or a PM to let me know what you think would be very appreciated._


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